


Better to Be Than to Burn

by ashsparagus



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, I'm pretty proud of this tbh, I'm pretty sure Harry talks like zero times, Josh is a knight, Josh is like Niall's bitch omg, Liam is like head over fucking heels, Louis and Harry have chill, Louis is the light of everyone's life, M/M, Medieval AU, Minor Character Death, Niall is a nobleman, Prince!Zayn, Royalty, Smut, Zayn is such a prick, Zayn's parents are assholes, blowjob, but no one else does, midnight adventure, modest is the villain, prince!liam, sex in the throne room actually, sorry I have no chill w tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 09:49:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3565244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashsparagus/pseuds/ashsparagus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn's twin sister, Leigh, is betrothed to Liam. And Zayn hates him. Like, a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> some of the formatting is like, messed up but I'm too lazy to fix it sorry.

            “We can’t win this war on our own. You know that—”

           

            “Yes! I do know that. So I can’t seem to figure why you feel the need to constantly remind me!”

 

            Zayn’s parents were arguing across the dinner table. It was a rather regular occurrence in the Malik household. Or palace. Or whatever. However, it was understandable, as making decisions for 10 million people on a daily basis could not be easy. Nonetheless, Zayn only found himself wanting his parents to _shut up._

“Oh, could you two just—!” Zayn began only to be cut off by his twin sister, Leigh, kicking him viscously beneath the table.

 

            Zayn’s father turned to glare at him reprimandingly as his sister smiled around a mouthful of potatoes. Leigh was definitely number one on the list of people who actually gave a shit about Zayn (the list was only about three people long, but still). His attitude usually got in the way of people even remotely liking him, and his parents. Well.

 

            Zayn and Leigh’s parents had always been focused on one thing and one thing only: Power. Power was the reason they were on the verge of war with an empire three times their size in the first place, and power was the reason King Stanley and Queen Helen were willing to sacrifice their children’s happiness for the sake of their kingdom.

 

            “Modest forces are stronger than ours, they are bigger than ours, and they will show us no mercy,” Zayn's mother spoke sternly. “I know you don't like the idea of merging with another kingdom, but we have our own to think about.”

 

The king straightened in his chair and cleared his throat. “Alright then, Helen, who will we be allying ourselves with?”

 

“Well, the Payne Empire has had previous contentions with Modest as well. King Alexander and Queen Lisa also have a son around Leigh's age who is an heir to the throne.”

 

“Wait—” Leigh stopped eating as she heard her name. “How are you planning on joining our two empires again?”

 

Queen Helen laughed. “By marriage, of course, dear.”

 

King Stanley rested a large hand on his daughter's shoulder. “Leigh, have you ever heard of a Prince Liam?”

 

***

 

Leigh had heard of Prince Liam. So had Zayn. And so had everybody. He was practically famous across Western Europe. (Famous for his alarmingly good looks and impressive muscle tone—it’s not like he had actually done anything worthy of fame.)

 

“How could you have taken that so calmly?” Zayn asked incredulously. “If it had been me I think I would have punched Dad in the face.” He seemed to be more upset about his twin's soon-to-be arranged marriage than Leigh was.

 

“We aren’t all as brash as you are, Zee,” His sister was half asleep, next to him in bed. They slept in each other’s rooms every once in a while; just to stay up late talking and giggling under the covers.

 

Zayn didn't know whether to take offense to what she had just said or not. It was probably an insult, but when coming from Leigh’s mouth, nothing could sound mean.

 

Sighing, Zayn turned onto his side to face his twin. “You do realize that you’re going to have to marry this…this _douchebag_ that you've never met before? You’ll just have to give your entire life to him, all your children and everything. You’ll never get to fall in love! I just don’t see how you can do this to yourself.”

 

“I’m doing this so we actually stand a chance against the Modest Empire,” Leigh spoke. Zayn groaned at her answer—it was the same reason King Stanley and Queen Helen had been giving their children all night, and Zayn felt exceptionally betrayed hearing his sister using it—and Leigh opened her eyes to give him a solemn look. “There’s a war coming and we can’t just stand by and watch our people be slaughtered, knowing that there’s something we could’ve done about it.” Her voice was harsher now. Leigh was never like this. She was kind and calm; Zayn was the rude, angry one.

 

“And who knows,” Leigh went on, softer, “maybe we’ll fall in love after a while. After we live together.”

 

“But you won’t get to choose. Not really.”

 

“Very few royal children do, Zayn. We’ve known this our whole lives.”

 

The room was silent for a couple minutes, both twins deep in thought. The clock ticked time away on the wall, and the sheets rustled as Leigh shifted her position. Zayn tried to commit to memory the feel of his twin’s presence beside him, her body heat seeping under his skin, because he had never heard of a married women sleeping in the same bed as her twin brother, and who knew when this would happen again.

 

A thought suddenly struck him. “You’re going to have to move away, aren’t you?”

 

Leigh immediately reached out beneath the sheets, curling her hand around her brother's. “You can always come visit. It’ll be like I never even left. And you’ll still have Louis.”

 

“God, I fucking hate this Liam prick already,” Zayn grumbled, squeezing Leigh’s hand.

 

“See, that’s your problem!” Leigh exclaimed, laughing a little.

 

“What is?”

 

“You always look for the worst in people. I bet Liam’s a sweetheart. I’m sure he’ll take good care of me,” Leigh surmised.

 

“Yeah, whatever…”

 

“Can you try being polite to him?” Asked Leigh.

 

“Who? Liam?” Zayn scoffed, rolling his eyes.

 

“The rest of his family, too. Just for once keep your mouth shut when you want to say something unkind.”

 

“You honestly think I’m going to try that? You know that you’re only person I can stand enough to be properly nice to.”

 

Leigh sighed softly, closing her eyes once more. “I know. But it was worth a shot right?”

 

Zayn shrugged. He considered for a split second that maybe if he were truly nice to Leigh then he would at least put in effort with this Liam bloke.

 

But then again, Zayn was never nice.

 

“Goodnight, Leigh. I love you.”

 

“I love you, too, Zee.”

 

_Except for when it came to Leigh._

 

***

 

            On the List of People Who Actually Gave a Shit About Zayn, numbers two and three were Louis Tomlinson, Zayn’s top advisor and style consultant, and Niall Horan, the son of a noble family that had been a part of the Malik’s royal court for centuries.

           

            “So it’s actually happening? Leigh is getting married? Just like that?” Niall wondered. The trio was sat up against the west wall of the castle grounds. In front of them was a large field, to the left of them were the stables, and conveniently in their line of vision were knights-to-be, running, riding, and sweating as they trained.

 

Zayn shrugged. “The Paynes are supposed to be arriving with their court sometime today. Leigh and Liam are to be wed next week.”

 

Louis shook his head is disbelief. “That’s bloody insane.”

 

“So is Josh Devine,” Niall said dreamily. Completely off topic, but, okay.

 

Zayn rolled his eyes in annoyance at the mention of Niall’s crush. Josh Devine was a knight, fairly high-ranked in King Stanley’s regiment. He was also the object of Niall’s utmost affections.

 

“Jesus, you can't go two fucking seconds without mentioning him, can you?” Zayn voiced remorselessly. Louis thwacked his arm, trying to get him to shut up, but Zayn kept going. “He’s never going to notice you, no matter how desperate you are.”

 

Groaning, Louis sat back against the brick wall, knowing what was about to ensue.

 

“Fuck you, Zayn,” muttered Niall, crossing his arms dejectedly. His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment and hurt.

 

“Why do you always have to be such a douche?” Louis whispered chidingly.

 

Zayn snorted, and didn’t answer. This was something Louis asked him on a near daily basis. It never changed anything, of course. Zayn was still a raging asshole.

 

“ZEE!” It was Leigh, dashing over to where the three boys where settled.

 

“What is it, Leigh?” Zayn groaned, giving his sister a look that consisted of twisted eyebrows and a small frown—one that showed he was officially exasperated with the entire human race.

 

“Do you know where Tyler is?” Tyler was Leigh’s personal style consultant, and Zayn assumed she wanted his help with preparing to meet Liam. The thought made Zayn feel both intense betrayal and disgust. But alas, Zayn did not know where Tyler was.

 

He shook his head no and kept his mouth shut to keep from making a snappy and/or rude comment in response to the question. Zayn didn’t like to see Leigh upset.

 

His twin sighed lightly and shrugged before turning to go. “Bye Niall, Lou!” She called over her shoulder, waving slightly with her fingers. It was in this moment, Zayn thought, that his sister truly was the epitome of a Princess. The sun reflected off of her long dark hair, her lips seemed especially red, and she looked overall undeniably beautiful.

 

_Prince Liam is a lucky man._

_He is also the douchiest, ugliest, most positively frustrating twin-brother-and-sister-separator in all of the realms._

 

Zayn thinks that he has never hated anyone more before in his life.

 

***

 

The library was the one room in the castle that Zayn didn’t feel trapped in. Very bratty-little-rich-kid-hates-his-life-for-next-to-no-reason, but it’s the truth. He could spend hours and hours in the large, circular room reading about everything: from Sir Isaac Newton’s discoveries on something called motion to tales of far off places full of backwards things like dragons that lived in castles and people that attacked their kingdoms.

 

“Zee, babe?” It was Louis, coming to fetch Zayn for the beginning of the end of the rest of his life. He knew better than to blame such minor tragedy on his best friend, though—he was only doing his job.

 

“Over here,” Zayn called half-heartedly.

 

Louis appeared among the ends of the rows of books Zayn had hidden himself between. “You gotta go get ready for dinner with the Paynes.”

 

Zayn let out a long, mangled groan that sounded vaguely of the word ‘fuck.’

 

“I know it sucks, but you have to go, this is a huge deal for the entire kingdom,” Louis said, and then added as an afterthought, “both of them.”

 

“Can’t I just stay here and _die?_ ” Zayn pleaded, dropping the book he was reading onto the floor, and then collapsing on top of it.

 

Louis rolled his eyes, crossed his arms, and stuck his hip out. “Stop being dramatic, you spoiled, piece-of-shit prince.”

 

Zayn didn’t budge.

 

“You can’t hide from this forever, babe,” He continued in a softer voice.

 

Eventually, Louis got Zayn off the floor and up three flights of stairs to his room. As the Prince dressed in his royal dinner ensemble, Louis lay on his bed and had a conversation with the ceiling about how Liam wasn’t that bad of a guy.

 

“Ready?” Louis inquired as Zayn stood in front of his vanity mirror.

 

Zayn said nothing in reply; just walked with Louis, back downstairs to the private dining room, where his family and guests were waiting.

 

“Zayn, my dear boy!” King Stanley boomed in his grand, kingly voice upon his entering. At this point in his life Zayn didn’t feel as though he was his father’s dear-anything, but it’s not like he could say much. “Looks like the prince has finally decided to join us.”

 

“I apologize for the delay, Sire,” Louis bowed to King Stanley, using a voice laced with faux deference, one he reserved for Zayn’s parents.

 

“That’s quite alright, Louis. Now Zayn, this is King Alexander and his blushing bride, Queen Lisa,” King Stanley, motioned to the two adults sitting on the opposite side of the table from them. Zayn nodded, smiled, and bowed to each of them, just as he had always been taught to do. “And this,” his father continued sweeping his arm in the direction of a young man sitting to the right of Queen Lisa, “is Prince Liam.”

 

_He’s not even hot_ Zayn thought to himself as he reached across the blunt banquet table to shake the Prince’s hand. But the only reason Zayn had to think such things was because Liam _was_ hot. Unreasonably so. He had big, soft brown eyes, and large hands to match his large biceps. His smile curled upon his face like fairy dust twirling through the air until it reached his kind eyes. Zayn couldn’t help but stare until he remembered to sit down.

 

Leigh grinned at him while King Stanley went on sharing a dreadfully obnoxious story about one of his racehorses. Zayn reached for his twin’s hand under the table, as if to make sure that she was still there.

 

“…And I’m sure the kids will have a blast this next week, all spending time together. Won’t you, lovelies?” Queen Helen was now saying.

 

“Except for when Zayn must leave Liam and Leigh to have some alone time,” The twins’ father quipped, laughing heartily. King Alexander and Queens Lisa and Helen followed in suit. Leigh laughed both breathily and nervously to Zayn’s left, beautiful face adorned with blush and an anxious smile. Liam looked up only to catch the evil eye that Zayn was giving him.

 

“Well, we’ll all be getting a little more acquainted with one another tomorrow night at Leigh and Liam’s engagement party, now won’t we,” Zayn’s mother added, smiling.

 

“One could only hope,” Zayn contributed, sarcasm drowning out his words, so that all anyone could hear was ‘ _Actually, I want Liam to be burned at the stake._ ’

 

Dinner only proceeded to become thoroughly more awkward. It hadn’t seemed possible, but with the heirs’ parents sharing embarrassing, unnecessary stories, and Zayn glaring aggressively judgmental daggers at Liam, the meal continued to barrel down hill.

 

When the younger attendees were finally dismissed, both Leigh and Zayn nearly ran from the dining room—pointedly not together. Tyler and Louis were waiting for the two of them outside. Tyler caught Leigh (who was on the verge of tears) in his arms, immediately trying to calm her. They began whispering profusely to each other. Seeing no point in sticking round to see the damage he had done, Zayn turned the opposite direction to take another route to his chambers.

 

“Zayn, what the hell did you do?” Louis jogged to catch up with him, placing a small hand on his shoulder. Zayn shrugged it off.

 

Another hand appeared in place, turning Zayn around to face its owner. Tyler slapped him directly across the face, the sound of it echoing off the palace walls.

 

“ _You!_ ” The astoundingly angry man in front of Zayn yelled. “Leigh asks you to do, like, _one thing_ every ten fucking years, and you—YOU CAN’T EVEN DO THAT! I swear on your father’s throne, Zayn Malik, you are the _most_ insufferable, idiotic, inconsiderate piece of shit _in this entire realm!_ You do realize that you made Leigh cry, right? _Leigh!_ The one person on this planet, besides maybe that fucker,” Tyler motioned to Louis dismissively, “who truly loves you, and will probably ever love you, because you have only one ability and that is to be a rampant _asswipe_. You’re a fucking idiot Zayn, and you better apologize to Leigh, and make it a goddamn good one, before I take your crown jewels and _shove them up your_ —”

 

Someone coughing cut off Tyler’s booming rant. The three men turned to see Liam standing uncomfortably at the entrance to the dining room.

 

Zayn hated him more now than ever.

 

“That’s, uh, quite the way to speak to your prince,” Liam laughed nervously, obviously trying to lighten the mood. He didn’t succeed.

 

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t deserve my respect,” Tyler scoffed, glaring at Zayn once more. “See to it that he fixes this,” He ordered Louis.

 

“For Leigh’s sake, I will,” Louis replied. Zayn could feel the disappointment radiating off of his friend. He felt horrible, and blamed it on Liam.

 

Tyler huffed, and then turned to Liam saying, “I’m sorry you had to witness that, Your Majesty. Do you need help finding your room?”

 

Liam gave Zayn a look then. The latter couldn’t exactly tell what it had meant, but it was a look, that was for sure. “Help would be great, thank you.”

 

Tyler then led Liam down the hall, taking a left at the far end. 

 

“You know what you’re gonna say to your sister?” Louis asked after a few moments of silence. Zayn nodded (even though he really didn’t), Louis took his hand, and they walked together towards Leigh’s bedchambers.

 

Upon reaching the large, glass, curtain-covered doors, Zayn knocked, but Louis spoke before he had the chance to. “Leigh? Babe? Are you still up?” He asked through to door.

 

“Lou?” Leigh’s soft voice came in reply. It was thick and shaky, and she had definitely been crying.

 

“Yeah, love, can you open up please?” And since Leigh had never been one to jump to sinister conclusions, she opened her door, thinking that Louis was alone.

 

“What are you doing here?” She demanded of Zayn.

 

“I’m here to apologize,” He began. Suddenly, everything he needed to say felt stuck in his throat. “I—I shouldn’t have acted that way towards Prince Liam. You deserve more than that. I should have promised you that I would be civil with him a long time ago, and I’m so sorry, Leigh.”

 

“Oh, Zayn,” Leigh breathed out, surging forward to hug her twin. “It’s alright, I know how you feel about this whole situation. And it wasn’t just you that made diner unbearable. Mom and Dad did their fair share of damage as well.”

 

Zayn made a weird laughing/relieved noise and hugged Leigh back. “I promise I’ll put up with him from now on. Maybe even save him a dance at the party tomorrow night?”

 

“Thanks, Zee, you’re the best,” Leigh kissed his cheek lightly, bid both boys goodnight, and then slipped back inside her room.

 

“You do not fucking deserve her as a sister,” Louis stated immediately.

 

The pair started heading in the direction of both their rooms, which were fairly close to each other. “I know,” Zayn replied shortly. His stomach felt twisted, and nervous, like he didn’t feel able to pull off this whole nice-to-Liam thing.

 

“Like, actually, since she’s not angry with you, I’m going to be angry with you for her.”

 

“You don’t think Tyler’s already done a good enough job of that?” 

 

“No, truthfully, because you’re so fucking horrible that one person mad just isn’t enough.”

 

“Jesus Christ, Lou, you’re always such a drama queen about everything,” Zayn slighted. Because if he couldn’t be mean to Liam any longer he had to be mean to someone.

 

“Fuck you, Malik,” Louis spat.

 

“That’s no way to address your prince,” Zayn said with a nasty smirk. It was actually incredible how quickly he could go from being emotionally vulnerable, to using cruel words as a defense.

 

Louis only marched into his room, slamming the door as a response. Zayn would never admit to the troubles he had falling asleep that night.


	2. Chapter 2

“I swear to god, this Harry bloke is going to be the absolute death of me,” Louis groaned, once again sprawled out on Zayn’s bed as he dressed himself for an occasion with the Paynes. Louis had gotten over being angry with him after lunch the day following the Drama Queen spat. When friends with Zayn Malik, one had to grow exceptionally thick skin.

 

“You’ve talked to him like, once, right?” Zayn inquired.

 

“Sadly,” Louis confirmed. “But he was just so tall, and pretty; and he had dimples, Zayn. _Dimples!_ ”

 

“I understand.”

 

“And he’s Prince Liam’s best friend, and I’m your best friend so it’s kind of like—”

 

“Kind of like what exactly?” Zayn interrupted, smiling a little. How did he ever survive without Louis? (Hint: he didn’t.)

 

“It’s kind of like we could all be best friends together!” Louis exclaimed, sitting up suddenly.

 

Shaking his head, Zayn bit back a smile.

 

“You look nice,” stated Louis. He was smiling awfully wide now, eyes shining with excitement, as he was to see Harry in less than an hour. Zayn’s formal attire included something Louis had told him was an ascot, and gold trim to match his eyes. Louis’s was more colorful, not that he couldn’t pull it off.

 

Zayn pulled his friend into a tight hug. He was never going to apologize for the things he had said the day before—this was as close as it was going to get. So Louis hugged him back, just as tight. “So do you,” Zayn mumbled into his neck.

 

“I know,” Louis replied, pulling out of Zayn’s arms to smile at him crookedly. “Are you ready to go now?”

 

“Kind of have to be, don’t I? Party starts in ten minutes.”

 

Before someone could come to usher them down stairs, the pair went on their own, arriving in the main ballroom with seven minutes to spare. Zayn could see Liam and Leigh on the far side of the room, near the symphony. He didn’t dare go to speak to his sister, not wanting to have to be kind to Liam. Instead, he tried his best to block Prince Liam’s existence from his mind, and zoned back into the conversation Louis and Niall were having.

 

“Are you going to dance with Josh tonight?” Louis questioned Niall, poking his cheek obnoxiously.

 

Niall blushed an impressive shade of red and muttered, “I dunno. If he asks me, then hell yeah, but I don’t reckon he will.”

 

Louis opened his mouth to disagree, but Zayn beat him to it. “He will, Ni. I promise.”

 

Both Niall and Louis looked at Zayn, startled. No one was used to him being this nice—especially not Niall.

 

“Thanks, Zayn,” Niall responded warily, like he was afraid to anger the Prince.

 

“Prince Zayn, you’re needed on your throne,” A feminine voice sounded from behind them. Zayn followed the servant to where his parents, sister, and the Paynes were already seated. Taking his seat to the right of his twin, Zayn grinned goofily at Leigh. He only received a small smile in return.

 

“Ladies and gentleman!” A page was gathering the crowd’s attention. “I present to you Their Majesties King Stanley and Queen Helen!” The party guests applauded. “Prince Zayn and Princess Leigh!” More clapping. “Most honorable guests, the royal Payne family, Their Majesties King Alexander and Queen Lisa. Additionally, their son and Princess Leigh’s betrothed: Prince Liam!” After the thunderous applause faded, Zayn’s father rose to greet his subjects, and then instructed everyone to enjoy the party, and begin dancing.

 

Liam came over to where Leigh and Zayn were sat. The way he asked Leigh to dance was so sweet and polite that it made Zayn sick. She of course accepted his offer, though.

 

He could see Niall drinking something that he had trouble believing was only punch, and Louis waltzing with a tall, curly haired lad he assumed was Harry.

 

Not more than are hour could have passed before Leigh was in front of her brother demanding that he enjoy himself. Zayn just wanted to sleep. However, he let Leigh drag him out onto the dance floor.

 

“I haven’t forgotten about you promising to dance with Liam, you know,” Leigh spoke close to Zayn’s ear. She placed her left hand on his shoulder, and held his right in her own.

 

“Didn’t think you would,” said Zayn, resting his free hand on Leigh’s waist.

 

They kept silent for several steps before Leigh was saying quietly, “I think I like him, Zayn.”

 

“Prince Liam?”

 

Leigh nodded. It’s not like Zayn hadn’t seen this coming. Liam was attractive, smart, and kind. Kinder than Zayn anyways. The only thing that surprised him was how angry this admission didn’t make him.

 

“Figured.”

 

“I think I could love him one day.”

 

“I’m happy for you, Leigh,” Zayn told her honestly.

 

“Thank you, Zayn,” She smiled a genuine smile at him then, and Zayn was suddenly hyperaware of how much he loved her.

 

“You know, Leigh, I think you may be my favorite twin sister.”

 

“Oh really?”

 

Zayn nodded, smiling with his mouth closed. Leigh giggled, because she always thought he looked funny smiling that way, and made a silly face back. The song came to an end, and Zayn knew what was to happen next.

 

Liam appeared next to Leigh, practically glowing in all his princely glory.

 

 _Douche_ , Zayn thought automatically.

 

“Prince Zayn, may I have this dance?” He asked, apparently sweeter than he did when he asked Leigh.

 

Zayn nodded, keeping his mouth shut, because if you don’t have anything nice to say you shouldn’t say anything at all.

 

Leigh smiled contently to herself, mumbling something about going to find Niall. Zayn was too busy trying to analyze the emotion in Liam’s eyes to answer her.

 

As the next song began, Prince Liam positioned his large, warm hands on Zayn’s slim waist. Zayn still didn’t understand the look in his eyes, or why his touch made Zayn’s skin hot. Liam slid his right hand up Zayn’s side to hold his firmly. Zayn placed his left hand on Liam’s broad shoulder and allowed himself to be led across the dance floor.

 

“You’re very beautiful, Prince Zayn,” Liam stated suddenly. Zayn thought about a response, but Liam was speaking again. “So is your sister.”

 

“Well that’s kind of how twins work.”

 

Liam either found this particularly funny, or was just trying to get Zayn to like him. Whichever way, he laughed at the prince’s response, eyes crinkling at the corners, and pink lips curling over his teeth. It was insanely adorable, Zayn decided, but he pushed that thought away as quickly as possible.

 

“And funny too, I see,” Liam murmured after he had finished laughing.

 

Zayn couldn’t help the smile that crawled onto his face.

 

“Did Prince Zayn just _smile_ at me?” Liam mused, smirking playfully.

 

“Shut up, Liam, Jesus,” Zayn grumbled, but he was still grinning. It was almost as if he had forgotten he hated Liam.

 

Prince Liam only smirked in response, pulling Zayn closer to him and twirling him across the ballroom floor. The entire time Zayn’s stomach was dipping and swooping. He didn’t understand any of it, which was possibly his biggest pet peeve. With all the reading he did, Zayn was considered a near genius. Not comprehending something irritated him.

 

Soon, the song came to an end, as they all do, and Leigh returned to the pair.

 

“Well then?” She prompted.

 

“Your brother is a lovely dancer,” Liam smiled at Zayn, “but I think I much prefer you, darling.”

 

Leigh blushed and smiled sheepishly. Giving Zayn a look of excitement, she fell into step with Liam. And Zayn hated him all over again.

 

The Prince ventured off to the other end of the ballroom, searching for Niall and/or Louis. Anything to keep his mind off of his sister and her fiancé. Finding Louis pushed up against a wall and being snogged by Harry Styles, Zayn decided not to intrude. (Okay, so maybe he could barely bring himself to look at the pair, let alone interrupt them. Because everyone was happy and with someone except for Zayn, and that didn’t seem fair.)

 

It was times when he felt like this that Zayn usually got especially snippy and rude with anyone who tried to speak to him. Not that he could do that now of course, as everyone who usually put up with his shit was either MIA or wooing his/her loved ones. Suddenly, the ballroom felt too hot and uncomfortable to be in it any longer. Making a break for the main doors, Liam and Leigh gliding across the dance floor caught Zayn’s eye. He felt sick to his stomach.

 

The cool, drafty corridor calmed his senses. That is, until he heard muffled sobs. Turning to his right, Zayn found Niall, sitting up against the wall with his knees pulled close to his chest and a hand covering his mouth.

 

“Niall?” Zayn was a little caught off guard.

 

Niall looked up at the Prince through his tears. Zayn could tell that he was the last person Niall wanted to see right now.

 

“Are you, um…are you alright?” Zayn didn’t usually ask people that.

 

Niall shook his head saying ‘no’ silently as he broke out into a fresh set of tears.

 

Zayn made his way over to the crying boy, sinking down onto the floor next to him. “Do you…want to talk about it?”

 

“W-why do you even fucking care, Zayn?” Niall questioned, calming down slightly.

 

Zayn opened his mouth to answer, only to find that he could not. He had never cared about Niall’s problems before, so why should he now? The fact that he was already feeling quite bad himself was another reason not to.

 

Settling for a lame shrug, he said, “Dunno. You look pretty upset, mate. And you’re usually so happy. Now are you gonna tell me what’s up, or should I leave?”

 

“It’s…Josh,” Niall admitted. “Last week we may or may not have completely sucked each other’s faces off in a broom closet.”

 

Zayn laughed. “That’s why you’re crying?”

 

“No!” Niall snapped defensively. “I’m crying because I saw him whispering into some noblewoman’s ear in there, and before I had the chance to slap him silly, he whisked her away to dance. That should’ve been _me_ , Zayn. I like him so goddamn much, but mean nothing to him, apparently.”

 

“That’s actually fucking terrible, Ni, I’m sorry.”

 

“Yeah, well, don’t be. ‘S not like you can do anything about it,” Niall wiped angrily at the stray tears still falling.

 

“Actually, you know, I technically _could_ do something about it.”

 

Why he was willing to help Niall with his relationship by going back into the ball when others’ relationships were the reason he left in the first place, Zayn will never know. Under normal circumstances, this is something Zayn may not have even done for Louis. But he had already accepted that between enjoying his dance with Liam far too much and feeling oddly resentful of his sister for no reason, nothing about this night was normal.

 

It took less time than expected to locate Josh and the girl he was with on the dance floor. Zayn approached the pair as princely as possible, aiming to exude power and authority when he spoke.

 

“Sir Joshua,” Zayn addressed the knight formally.

 

Josh turned, stunned to see him. Zayn was fairly certain that this might have been their first actual conversation, which would explain both Josh’s surprise and inelegance.

 

“Prince—Prince Zayn, your Majesty,” Josh bowed. “To what do I owe thee?”

 

“I need to speak with you about,” Zayn eyed Josh’s date: a mildly attractive redhead with a large nose, “your significance in my father’s army. He asked me to fetch you.”

 

A mention of King Stanley worried Josh even more, and he hurried to follow Zayn through the crowd.

 

Zayn led the knight to a servants’ passageway that was being used to carry food and cutlery to and from the party.

 

Pushing Josh back into the wall, Zayn smiled intimidatingly. “So,” he began to pace back in forth in front of the nervous man, “I hear you and Niall Horan got at it last week.”

 

Josh gulped, realizing that this had nothing to do with the King’s army, and that he was in far more trouble than he had originally assumed. “Well, I mean we d—”

 

“I don’t actually care what happened, Sir Josh. All I care about is my very upset friend, sitting out in the corridor alone, because the man supposedly courting him found other entertainment for the evening.”

 

“Prince Zayn, you must—I mean, I never realized that you and Niall were so close, I—”

 

“Enough excuses, Joshua. I find them petty, and unnecessary—much like you. Yet, somehow, my dear Niall is still interested in,” Zayn scanned Josh's figure, “whatever it is you have to offer. So, here’s what’s going to happen: you’re going to go find Niall outside the ballroom and earnestly beg for him to take you back. And I mean really beg for it, Josh. Kiss his feet, suck his dick, rim his ass; I don’t care what it takes. You will then proceed to court, date, engage, and marry him, adopt as many children as he wishes, and make him the happiest man in all the realms until the day you die. Got it?”

 

Josh nodded profusely and then scurried away to find Niall once Zayn dismissed him. Watching Josh run away, Zayn laughed to himself, truly hoping that he had made Niall’s night. However, there was still the matter of whatever was weighing his heart down. Choosing to ignore it, Zayn excited the party through the kitchen, so as not to disturb whatever it was Josh and Niall would be getting up to, and headed off to bed.


	3. Chapter 3

In the weeks leading up to Leigh and Liam’s wedding, Zayn was sure that it could not get any worse. _It_ being the loneliness he now carried in his heart as he felt his sister being pulled away from him more and more.

 

            He hated Liam increasingly so, as well. Zayn blamed him for everything he could think of, and opted to have his dinner delivered to him in the library or his room. He couldn’t risk disappointing Leigh again—not when they were so close to losing each other.

 

            Niall and Josh were an official couple now, which, for some reason, made Niall talk about him less. Instead he was all involuntary smiles, and lost looks when he was thinking of Josh. Louis and Harry had apparently slept together the night of the ball, and were now talking of marriage after Liam and Leigh’s.

 

            As happy as Zayn may have been for his friends on the inside, he never let it show on the outside. He was all unkind words and snarky attitude when speaking to anyone. Something Louis had chosen to ignore when he spent time with Zayn among his books.

 

            The night before Leigh was due to have the final alterations made to her dress, she showed up at Zayn’s door in her pale gold nightgown and matching slipper socks.

 

            “Can’t remember the last time we had a sleepover, huh Zee,” She said, walking across Zayn’s large room to the four-poster bed against the far wall.

 

            Zayn just followed her movements with his eyes, staying by the door.

 

            “Are you alright?” Leigh asked.

 

            Zayn shook his head.

 

            “Is it okay if I stay the night?”

 

            “Yeah,” Zayn’s voice cracked when he spoke.

 

            “Well, c’mon then, come get in bed.”

 

            Much to Zayn’s relief, Leigh never said one word about Liam. Instead the twins stayed up half the night recalling stories from their childhood, some about their old nanny Mrs. K, others about the adventures they had sneaking around the castle’s catacombs.

 

            “And we refused to come out until we were promised ponies that were twins just like us,” Leigh reminisced. Zayn could hear the smile on her face, and the tears in her eyes.

 

            Turning onto his side to face his twin, Zayn reached out and grabbed Leigh’s hand, tangling their fingers together.

 

            “I’m so sorry this is happening, Zee,” Leigh whispered, her voice shaking from soft sobs.

 

            “You have to do it to save our people,” Zayn assured her, squeezing his twin’s hand. “I’m so proud of you Leigh, you’re being so brave.”

 

            “I love you,” Leigh sniffled.

           

            “I love you, too. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Leigh.”

 

            “You’re my best friend, too.”

 

            Zayn ran his hand through his sister’s long black hair until they both drifted off to sleep.

 

***

 

            The next morning Leigh was gone. Zayn woke up around midday to an empty bed and stomach. He wandered down to the kitchens for a hearty breakfast-after-noon and was halfway to the library when Louis came running down the corridor screaming his name.

 

            “What the hell, Lou?”

 

            “Zayn, you need to come with me right now,” Louis demanded, grabbing Zayn’s wrist and pulling him back they way they had come.

 

            They ended up at the front gate where numerous knights, Liam, Harry, and King Stanley had gathered.

 

            “Dad,” Zayn broke away from Louis, now understanding that something was terribly wrong, “what’s going on?”

 

            The king opened his mouth to answer, a concerned look drawn across his face, when suddenly: Josh Devine came dashing across the drawbridge on horseback, Niall gripping his waist from behind.

 

            “Careful! Careful, he’s wounded,” Josh told the people helping Niall down sternly.

 

            “Josh!” Zayn rushed past the guards to the knight, distress filling his stomach. Niall had gone with Leigh to the tailor for the dress alterations. “What happened?”

 

            Josh looked worried, and in deep thought, like he was trying to figure out the best way to tell Zayn exactly what happened to Niall. Louis was by his friend’s side in an instant.

 

            “The tailor is on the outskirts of the kingdom, and Niall and Leigh…their carriage was on open country road for a long time…”

 

            “Where’s my sister?” whispered Zayn. Louis grasped his hand.

 

“Modest forces ambushed the guards first, to make sure they could harm the Princess.”

 

            “Where is she, Josh?”

 

            “Niall was on the right side of the carriage and they attacked from the left, so the remaining guards could stop the assassins before he was killed but—”

 

            “No.”

 

            “They were too quick, Zayn. They stabbed Leigh four times. She’s dead Zayn, I’m so, so sorry.”

 

            “No!” Zayn shouted. Everyone around them broke out into harsh whispers. Zayn could hear his father yelling, but everything sounded like white noise. Tears blurred his vision, and all he could see was the dull gray color of the stone floor. Zayn didn’t remember falling onto the ground, but Louis’s arms were wrapped around him, holding him up right as he sobbed and screamed.

 

            At some point someone much too strong to be Louis, lifted Zayn up bridal style and carried him into King Stanley’s study. His mother was present, dabbing at her eyes with a lace handkerchief.

 

            _How dare she_ , Zayn thought angrily, _mourning my sister’s death when she cared nothing for her while Leigh was living._ Unexpectedly, everything started to hurt. From Zayn’s legs to his heart to his head: everything ached. It was as though when Leigh had been stabbed he had been, too. Straight through his chest, making it hard to breathe. Slashed across the throat, making it hard to swallow. Everything pained with the loss of his twin sister.

 

He looked up for Louis, needing his friend more than anything, but only finding his parents, King Alexander, and Prince Liam.

 

            _I need Louis_ , more tears dripped from Zayn’s eyes. _I need Leigh._

 

            “My daughter has been murdered,” the king began to speak as though he was giving a speech to thousands, rather than to a room of five people. “Murdered by Modest assassins. I will not let her die in vain. Our two kingdoms will still be united by marriage, and we will defeat Modest in this war they’re waging.”

 

            Zayn could not believe what he was hearing.

 

            “King Stanley certainly you know that the only way for our kingdoms to be united by marriage now is for—” King Alexander was cut off.

 

            “Yes, Alexander, I know. Zayn and Liam will have to wed, it is the only way.”

 

            Zayn could not speak. He could barely hear anything said after that. He only stared at the worn carpet on the floor of the study until the meeting ended. Liam left after apologizing for Zayn’s loss. King Stanley left after clapping his son on the shoulder and saying ‘We’ll get through this.’ Zayn didn’t believe that he ever would.

 

He didn’t leave until Louis came to get him, promising clean bed sheets, hot chocolate, cuddles, and a lovely book. Instead, Zayn demanded Louis leave him be, and cried until no more tears would fall.

 

***

 

            Despite popular belief and the first three letters of the word, funerals were never ‘fun’, and they often failed to provide anyone with closure.

 

            On the morning of his twin’s funeral, Zayn was already awake (as he had been all night) and waiting for Louis to come force him out of bed. The latter showed up fairly early in order to crawl into bed with his best friend and hold him tight. Although Zayn would never admit it, Louis had been his biggest help throughout the latest ordeal. (Whether that was Leigh’s death or the fact that he had to marry Liam, Zayn never opened his mouth long enough to say.)

 

            Words had become a luxury he could not afford without spending tears first.

 

            “Are you ready to get up now?” Louis asked softly, an hour after he had started cuddling with Zayn.

 

            “I dunno,” Zayn answered lamely, burying his head into Louis’ neck and holding his waist tighter.

 

            “C’mon, babe. You have to pay your respects to Leigh.”

 

            _Would she even want me there?_ But this was not a worry Zayn would ever voice. He had burdened Louis with so much already (his fits, his attitude, his crying). Zayn knew he had to learn to deal with it on his own if he was ever going to recover from such a loss.

 

            The prince allowed Louis to pull him out of bed while he stayed limp like a ragdoll, and then lay where Louis left him while he picked out Zayn’s clothes.

 

            After forcing Zayn to get washed up and change his underwear, Louis helped him dress.

 

            “You look hot, trust me. Prince Liam won’t even know what hit him,” Louis had to assure his friend more than once before Zayn left his chambers willingly.

 

            Zayn thought he had done himself a favor, repressing the knowledge of Leigh’s death as much as possible. This didn’t end up the case, though, as when they got to the palace chapel, it all came rushing back, and Zayn broke down into heaving sobs outside the door.

 

            “Zayn, Zee, listen babe, we have to go in, okay? And you have to sit with your family in the front, but Niall will be right with you, and I’ll just be a few rows back, all right?”

 

            It was times like this when Zayn remembered that Louis, while considerably high up in the social food chain, was technically in a whole other class than himself. _Maybe if I knighted him, like, right now then he could_ —but Louis was already taking Zayn’s hand and leading him into the sanctuary.

 

            Thankfully, Zayn felt numb to everyone’s gaze as the pair made their way to the front. Everyone’s except Liam’s. He was sitting on the other side of the empty seat next to Niall and _fuck_. Louis deposited Zayn in said seat and then, with a final squeeze of his hand, left to go sit with Tyler and the rest of the honored help; a little too far away from the nobility in Zayn’s opinion.

 

            He was too close to Liam, and not close enough to Louis, and Niall’s hand was kind of sweaty, and Leigh’s dead body was in the casket merely ten feet in front of him. Zayn thought he might puke, he thought that he was actually just going to vomit all over the floor during his sister’s funeral—and he probably would have had Liam not been sitting so close, smelling like a Greek god. Leigh was probably laughing her ass off at him right now. The thought made him smile, and the smile made him realize that he hadn’t smiled since his twin sister died, so. Progress.

 

            Prince Zayn sat perfectly still in his perfectly pristine black clothes, the blurry, monotone sound of the priest’s voice mere background noise to his empty thoughts. He sat through every hymn and verse, and the knights carrying his sister’s casket out of the chapel to be placed in the family crypt for the rest of eternity. Tears never left the prince’s eyes, and everything still kind of hurt.

 

            Niall was in the middle of telling Zayn something about how much Leigh loved him when he noticed his father instructing Louis to do something. Zayn, of course, didn’t know what, but Louis looked excited and kept looking around the increasingly empty room from Liam to Zayn.

 

            With a final nod of deference to King Stanley, Louis skipped over to where Zayn was sitting with Niall.

 

            “Guess what,” he instructed, trying awfully hard not to look as thrilled as he really was.

 

            Zayn wanted to say something, but the words got stuck in his throat. Instead, Niall asked, “What?”

 

            “King Stanley just told me that I get to lock Zayn and Liam in a room together tonight,” Louis let himself grin now.

 

            “What?” Zayn asked, shocked.

 

            “Well, okay, those weren’t his _exact_ words. But he said that since you two are to be married next week you need to be acquainted with one another.”

 

            “We’ll have plenty of time for that once we have to spend the rest of our lives together now won’t we!” Zayn whispered yelled, furious. He didn’t want Liam, who was just on the other side of the room talking with Harry, to hear him.

 

            “Yeah but this way you’ll be in love before you get married; so when you say ‘I do’ you can mean it!” Louis squealed, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

 

            “Why are you so excited about this?” Zayn demanded.

 

            “Because my ship an finally sailing—”

 

            “Oh my lord.”

 

            “—and you’re finally going to be happy, Zayn, and I want that so much for you.”

 

            “Are you kidding? You know how much I hate him!”

 

            Louis sighed and began to rub his temples. He sat down on Zayn’s other side, taking his other hand. “Look, babe, you and I both know that you’re going to end up marrying this bloke no matter what—for you country and all that—so why not do it right? No matter how much you keep on trying to hate him, no matter how much you blame him for Leigh’s death, one day you’ll end up seeing what a great guy he is, and then you’ll just be angry with yourself for all the time you wasted. Plus, Harry’s told me that Liam wants to make things work with you. He wants to try to love you, and if you can’t give him that chance then—”

 

            “Okay, fine,” Zayn grumbled suddenly.

 

            “Really?”

 

            Zayn nodded. He had a floppy feeling in his stomach, and he didn’t know why he was saying yes.

 

            After being forced to accept numerous kisses from distant relatives he didn’t really know, Zayn was finally free. He escaped to the library, where he spent the rest of the day sulking, and feeling tremendously betrayed.

 

***

 

            A knock sounded on Zayn’s chamber doors late that night, just has he was about to crawl under the covers, hoping Louis had forgotten about, what he, Harry, and Niall had come to call Operation Z.A.L.M.O.S. (Which stood for Zayn And Liam Make Out Session, but Zayn preferred not to think about that part.)

 

            Unsurprisingly, Zayn’s guest was Liam, which kind of made him flush because all he wore to sleep was a loose cotton top and tight fitting undergarments, while Liam was still fully dressed.

 

            “Good—uh…Good evening Prince Zayn,” Liam greeted him after obviously but abashedly examining Zayn’s body.

 

            “Yeah, okay pervy, just get in here. Make yourself comfortable or whatever,” Zayn responded, maybe-glancing at Prince Liam’s ass as he walked by. When he turned back to shut the door it was as if Louis had appeared out of nowhere (when in reality Zayn had just been too caught up in Liam to notice he had been standing there all along).

 

            “Okay, so here’s this,” Louis said gleefully, handing Zayn a small bottle of oil. “So just have fun and be safe, I love you very much.”

 

            And then, Louis was gone. Zayn shut the door behind him and left the bottle of oil on a table in the sitting room. He found Liam in his bedroom, gazing at a small painting of Leigh and Zayn as children hung on the far wall.

 

            “I miss her very much,” Liam spoke, turning to face Zayn. “I can’t even imagine how you must feel.”

 

            Just like that, Zayn’s anger was back. Whatever fondness for Liam’s ass, whatever stupidly nervous butterfly-y things he had been feeling before, it all left his being in the blink of an eye. Now he was just angry.

 

            “Yeah, well, my twin sister died, so, you know. Just the usual,” Zayn snapped sassily. Fuck this marriage, fuck being in love, fuck Liam being a good guy—the fact was he didn’t deserve Zayn after everything he had done to his family.

 

            “Are you alright?” Liam asked nervously.

 

            “What the hell kind of question is that?” Zayn demanded in a too-loud voice.

 

            “You’re right, that was insensitive, I’m sorry. What I mean is—”

 

            “Oh, who the hell cares what you mean, _Prince Liam_? Unless you’ve changed dramatically in the last two weeks, all you’re good for, all you’re going to end up doing is hurting my twin—but oh wait, you can’t. _She’s dead!_ ”

 

            “Zayn, babe—”

 

            “Don’t you fucking dare call me that!” If anything Liam using the name Louis always called him just made Zayn uncomfortable. “I’m not your babe, or your boyfriend, or your lover! I’m just your betrothed. And I’m only marrying you so I can save my people.”

 

            Liam had no response to Zayn’s yelling, and could only stare at him in surprised silence.

 

            The next time Zayn spoke, his voice was shaking and the backs of his eyes stung. “I am nothing like my sister, Liam. I’m not kind, or naïve, and I’m not going to fall in love with you just because you’re the One and Only Handsomely Muscled Prince Liam Payne.”

 

            “And I’m not expecting you to,” Liam said quietly.

 

            If anything, it made Zayn madder that Liam wasn’t going to yell back.

 

            “God, you don’t fucking get it, do you?” Zayn shouted. “I hate you Liam. I. Hate. You. You got my twin sister killed; you tore my life apart! All of this is your fucking fault! If wasn’t for your stupid fucking wedding and that stupid fucking wedding dress she would still be here!” Zayn was definitely crying now, throwing his arms in anger, pulling at his hair, and looking for something to punch that wasn’t Liam’s impossibly gorgeous face. “All I want is Leigh back, I don’t want you or this war or to be married to someone I’ll never love. Fuck! This is all your fault you—”

 

            Failing to notice Liam’s increasing anger, Zayn was caught off guard when he slammed him back against the nearest stonewall. Tears of both physical and emotional pain slipped down Zayn’s cheeks as he tired to look anywhere but Liam’s eyes. How Zayn had failed to notice how much bigger Prince Liam truly was compared to him, he didn’t know. But now he was upset and slightly scared as Liam finally began to fight back.

 

            “How dare you say this is my fucking fault? And say it like I wanted Leigh dead, too? What kind of person do you take me for? I never wanted this either, Zayn. No one is happy with an arranged marriage at first, but your sister and I…I think we could’ve gotten there. I think she loved me…”

 

            “She didn’t,” Zayn lied. “She couldn’t stand you.”

 

            Liam’s hold tightened on Zayn’s shoulders. “God, _fuck_ you, Zayn! You’re such a fucking…” Liam never finished his sentence, giving up trying to find a word to describe the unbearable boy. Instead he pressed his lips against Zayn’s in a desperate, feverish kiss. At first, Zayn made no move to respond, trying his best to resist every urge in his body telling him to _kiss Liam back_. But Liam wasn’t giving up. He worked his lips against Zayn’s soft ones in an attempt to get the kiss to say everything he had ever felt for Zayn since the first moment he saw him.

 

            When Liam’s hands moved from gripping Zayn’s shoulders to cradling both his cheeks, he caved. Zayn opened his mouth; urging Liam to do the same as he slid his tongue passed Liam’s lips. The urgent kiss gradually slowed and softened. Zayn’s hands were holding both of Liam’s wrists loosely, silently asking him to _please keep going_. Their tongues slipped passed each other, as Zayn started to suck on Liam’s bottom lip. Liam broke away from Zayn’s kiss with a prominent _smooch_ sound, and moved to begin kissing Zayn’s neck, pushing his knee in between Zayn’s thighs.

 

            Zayn made a slightly embarrassing whimper-y noise, getting lost in the feeling of Liam’s tender lips on his skin. It wasn’t until Liam kissed back up Zayn’s neck and jaw to his lips that Zayn looked into Liam’s eyes and remembered what they were doing. He began to cry all over again.

 

            Liam immediately uncrowded him without getting too far away, and kissed the tears off of Zayn’s cheeks before pulling him into a tight hug.

 

            “Shhh, Zayn…sweetheart, it’s going to be all right,” Liam cooed, kissing the top of Zayn’s head.

 

            Zayn tried his best to get his sobs under control before he allowed himself to look Liam in the eye again.

 

            “Can we just—”

 

            “Yeah, of course,” Liam responded, walking Zayn over to his bed and pulling back the covers for him. Zayn pointedly averted his eyes when Liam stripped himself of his shirt and pants.

 

            They got settled in bed together, Zayn laying his head on Liam’s muscular chest. Soon enough, Zayn was sniffling quietly, not wanting Liam to know how upset he was. He cried himself to sleep with Liam hushing him and rubbing his back.


	4. Chapter 4

 

            _Zayn next opened his eyes to find himself in a field. Parts of it resembled the southern castle grounds, but instead of being able to see the castle walls in the distance, it just stretched on forever._

_He could feel the sun on his skin, and was squinting his eyes to the sun, yet he knew it was a dream. Everything seemed a little fuzzy._

_“You know, if Dad had had it his way this is what to southern grounds would really look like,” a voice spoke from behind his right shoulder. Leigh’s voice._

_“Like what?” Zayn questioned._

_“Way bigger than they actually are or could ever be. Same with the palace. And the Empire, come to think of it. He always was rather bitter that he hadn’t been born into more money,” Leigh said with a laugh. Her laugh sounded exactly as Zayn had remembered it, exactly as it always had._

_“You’re dead,” Zayn choked out, finally turning to face his sister only to find—nothing._

_“Yeah, sorry about that,” This time Zayn heard Leigh’s voice as it used to sound when they were very little—five or six—and felt something take hold of his hand._

_It was Leigh—Leigh as a young girl, at least. Her long black hair was tied back in a green ribbon that made her eyes change color. She was wearing a matching dress and Zayn realized that this is what she had looked like on the day of their cousin Emily’s christening so many years ago. The day the portrait of them hanging in Zayn’s room had been painted._

_“Will you play with me?” The Young Leigh asked._

_Zayn fell to the ground in front of her so as to be able to hold her cheeks and look her in the eyes. Warm tears trickled down Zayn’s face. “I’ll always play with you, Leigh.”_

_“Well then stop crying and get up!” She exclaimed._

_Zayn did as he had been told, wiping at his cheeks. Young Leigh began to run, obviously wanting Zayn to chase her. However, when Zayn began to run after her she seemed to speed up—or maybe he had slowed down. In no time at all it became clear that Zayn would never catch up, and Young Leigh kept on running right out of Zayn’s sight._

_“Leigh!” The prince called, trying to run after her. But his feet wouldn’t move._

_“You never were good at running,” it was Leigh’s voice as it had been before—the last Zayn had heard it. “Or maybe you were and just never ran because why would a prince need to? I can’t remember. We were kids so long ago.”_

_Turning to locate his sister in the field, Zayn found her sitting a few feet to his left in what would have been her wedding dress, blood staining the stomach and skirt. Zayn ran over to whisk her into his arms in a tight hug. “It wasn’t that long ago,” Zayn responded._

_“And you’re still the same brat you were back then,” Leigh added. Zayn could only smile, happy to see his sister again._

_“Leigh, I—”_

_“I know that you made out with Liam, Zayn. I’m a figment of your subconscious, remember?”_

_“I’m sorry.”_

_“Why on Earth are you sorry?”_

_“It’s like—I mean—You two were going to get married.”_

_“And now you two are going to get married,” Leigh replied matter-of-factly._

_“Only because you went and got yourself_ assassinated _.”_

_Zayn’s twin rolled her hazel eyes in annoyance. “Oh yes, excuse me, how dare I not think of you when I asked those Modest hit men to kill me. I do apologize.”_

_“Leigh—”_

_“No, Zee, I get it. You don’t want to be happy. You want to live your life sad and alone, watching your friends get married and have kids and grow old together while you bitch and moan about your arranged marriage until that day you die. I understand, I really do.”_

_“No—I don’t—I mean—Dammit, Leigh, why are you always so right?”_

_“Please, I’m your twin sister. I know you better than anyone,” Leigh said, flipping her dark her over her shoulder._

_“I just can’t do that to you. Take Liam like that,” Zayn mumbled, twisting blades of grass between his fingers._

_“Zayn, actually what the fuck.”_

_Zayn looked at his sister inquisitively._

_“You aren’t taking him from me! The only ones who did that are my murders (whom, by the way, you still need to catch. Avenge me and all that) You’re going to end up marrying him either way, and I want you to be happy, so if you like him then just—”_

_“But what if I don’t like him?”_

_“Zayn, shut up, you like him.”_

_“He won’t like me, though,” Zayn said solemnly. “Not once he realizes what I’m really like.”_

_“You don’t know that—”_

_“Yes, I do, Leigh. I’m not a nice person like you and him are. It would never work out.”_

_“You won’t know until you try, Zayn.”_

_“And what if I don’t want to try?”_

_Leigh then took Zayn’s face in her delicate hands to make sure he was looking at her. “It’s better to be than to burn.”_

 

***

 

            When Liam awoke, Zayn was gone. The spot where Zayn had been sleeping—his pillow, half of the covers, the left side of Liam’s body—all of it was cold. Cold as though that’s what the absence of Zayn entailed; Liam had wanted him to hold on so much. _Maybe too much, perhaps?_

 

            Zayn’s chambers were too quiet, and the more Liam thought about it, the lonelier he felt—which was rather ridiculous, as Liam was not the one who had just lost his twin sister.

 

            After a few minutes of lying in wait (like Zayn was going to miraculously materialize next to him) Liam elected to get up.

 

            Tyler was waiting for him outside in the hall. “Prince Liam,” he greeted with a small bow, “your father has requested your presence in the main dining hall for breakfast.”

 

            “Thank you, Tyler. I think I can find my own way down there, if that’s alright?”

 

            The assistant nodded and left Liam to his own devices. Once the prince had dressed himself in rather casual clothes, he ventured down to the dining hall and suffered through breakfast with his and Zayn’s parents. Zayn was nowhere to be found. Queen Lisa assured her son that Zayn had probably wanted to get an early start to his day.

 

            Liam spent most of his morning looking for Prince Zayn. Although, his search was a little less searching a little more wandering once he failed to find his fiancé in the library. The Malik’s castle was apparently much larger than the prince originally thought.

 

            After eating lunch, Liam spent the rest of the day dueling in the courtyard with Sir Joshua. Harry, Louis, and a recently healed Niall watched on with great interest; Zayn was still missing.

 

            Prince Liam guessed that Zayn was scared, confused, and possibly the slightest bit hurt. He had made out with his dead twin sister’s boyfriend. _He was going to have to marry his dead twin sister’s boyfriend_. Liam only wanted to find Zayn so he could hug him, and kiss him, and show him that everything was going to be okay.

 

            All Liam knew was that Zayn had trouble loving people. He had trouble accepting that being a nice person could be, well, nice.

 

While Leigh had been alive she often shared with Liam all of the concerns she harbored for her brother. ( _“I just want him to be okay, you know? I want him to find someone he can be happy with, someone who can show him how to love…”_ ) Now that she had passed, Liam knew he had to be that someone. He was determined to fulfill Leigh’s wishes. Not only because he loved her, but also because he loved Zayn.

 

***

 

Louis totally knew where Zayn was. Zayn knew that Louis knew where he was.

 

Zayn just figured that Louis also knew how much he didn’t want to see Liam. Every time he thought about what they had done—he felt sick. Certainly this was breaking not only the Bro Code, but also multiple sorts of Twin Codes? Zayn had kissed Liam, and liked it. This had to be betraying his sister in some way.

 

Not that Zayn really had a choice, that is. He knew he had to marry Liam either way, yet he knew that he didn’t have to like it so damn much.

 

And then there was the fucking dream.

 

_“It’s better to be than to burn.”_

 

It was like his subconscious was mocking him with the fact that he had hopeless feelings for Prince Liam.

 

Then again, maybe this is truly what Leigh would have wanted. Or maybe not.

 

Zayn had been going back and forth with himself all day. Wandering around the castle’s catacombs seemed like the perfect place to do it, too. All he had to do was not be spotted by any guards who would tell his parents where he was and he was in the clear.

 

He emerged from the dark, torch lit tunnels just after dinner had been served. He ventured off to the library (because fuck eating and talking to your estranged parents about marriage when you can read instead) where Louis found him a few hours later.

 

“Where’ve you been?” Louis asked.

 

Zayn looked up from his book briefly and replied, “Catacombs.”

 

“Haven’t you like, read every book in here already?”

 

Zayn looked up briefly once more. “Not quite.”

 

“Do you want me to leave you alone?”

 

“Do you think I’m a bad person?”

 

Louis looked slightly taken aback. “Um, well, yeah pretty much. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

 

“I know, it’s just,” Zayn started, shutting his book, “I had this dream. And Leigh was there.”

 

“And?”

 

“And in my dream she kept trying to convince me to let Liam in, I guess.”

 

“Oh, my god, that’s why you weren’t in bed when he woke up this morning, wasn’t it?”

 

“How do you know about that?”

 

“I’ve been with Liam, like all day, we’ve all been looking for you.”

 

“Please don’t tell him now.”

 

“Zayn, why are you hiding from Liam?”

 

And just like that, Zayn opened up. Struggling with his ever-unstable feelings and internal monologue all day long had been more stress than Zayn realized, because now that Louis was there to listen there was nothing that Zayn wouldn’t tell. They talked until late that night, until Louis had finally convinced Zayn to just go for it with Liam.

 

Around midnight Zayn was wandering back to his chambers, exhausted, and sad, still debating how he felt exactly.

 

When he saw Liam stretched out on his bed writing something on a piece of parchment, basking in his shirtless glory, the room lit by candlelight, he decided that he most definitely could.

 

“Hello, love,” Liam greeted him tentatively. “How are you feeling?”

 

Zayn shrugged. “Tired,” he answered, just in time for his stomach to growl loudly.

 

“And hungry?” Liam ventured. He couldn’t help notice how positively melancholy Zayn appeared. He had tear tracks on his cheeks and what seemed like a permanent pout on his face.

 

Zayn shrugged again.

 

“Well, you know what makes me feel better when I’m sad and tired?”

 

Zayn shrugged one last time.

 

“Food,” Liam stated.

 

_“It’s better to be than to burn.”_

 

Swallowing thickly and balling his fists to keep from shying away, Zayn said, “Guess we should go find some then.”


	5. Chapter 5

The Malik’s palace was still in the dead of night. The drawbridge was shut, all torches extinguished. Most of the guards supposed to be on watch were fast asleep, as per usual. There were a few upright and alert—the only few who had learned anything from Princess Leigh’s death.

 

Every stone and tapestry, every table and floorboard, seemed to be asleep along side the castle’s occupants.

 

Except, of course, the two princes gallivanting through the drafty corridors in search of a path to the kitchen that was free of sentinels.

 

“Liiiaamm, slow down!” Zayn whisper-shouted to his midnight companion, speeding up to a jog to catch up with Liam just as he reached the end of the hall.

 

Liam shushed Zayn, planting a hand over the latter’s mouth and pressing both their bodies flat against the wall. A watchman walked by the opening seconds later, conveniently overlooking the young monarchs.

 

Zayn busted out into giggles as soon as Liam uncovered his mouth. Liam couldn’t help but smile at the handsome man.

 

“Okay, let’s go,” Liam murmured, taking Zayn’s hand and leading him around the corner.

 

“My feet are cold,” Zayn decided. “Can you give me yours?”

 

Liam stopped to give him a funny look as Zayn began laughing again, realizing what he had said.

 

“Can you give me a piggyback ride instead?” Zayn requested, hiccupping at the end.

 

“Of course, sweetheart,” Liam complied easily, bending at the knees so Zayn could wrap himself around Liam in order to keep his bare feet off of the cold stone floor.

 

The pair crept about the halls until they finally reached the kitchen. It still smelled a little like the dinner that had been prepared hours earlier. Zayn’s stomach grumbled correspondingly.

 

Zayn clambered off of Liam’s back, padding over to the pantry. “What do you want?”

 

 _For you to be happy._ “Tea,” Liam answered after a beat, pushing his extrusive, earnest thoughts away. Zayn had just begun to open up around him; he didn’t want to scare him off.

 

“Alright, we’ll need to get a fire going then,” responded Zayn, emerging from the storeroom with a tin of tealeaves.

 

Liam located the pile of firewood in a corner of the large kitchen and was able to stack it in the hearth easily enough, but after that the prince was lost. Zayn appeared at his side just in time, though, lugging a pot of water along with him. To say the least, as he watched Zayn plop down onto the floor and get a fire going with nothing but a stick and some flint, Liam was tremendously impressed. He had never pegged Zayn as a prince who knew how to fend for himself.

 

“Leigh and I didn’t like our nanny when we were younger—we preferred to run and hide from her in the kitchen or catacombs. The servants and chefs that worked in here loved having us around. We learned how to do a lot like, cook, and clean, and start fires. It’s nice knowing how to take care of yourself. Especially when your caretaker is an evil bitch, and your parents don’t have the time for you.”

 

Zayn said all of this sitting cross legged on the floor, staring at the flames of the fire distractedly. Prince Liam carefully sat down next to him, putting an arm around his shoulder so he could pull Zayn close and kiss his temple.

 

“You’ll have to teach me your self-sufficient ways sometime,” Liam spoke softly, never moving away from Zayn.

 

“God, you’re one of those bratty princes who can’t be bothered to think for or clean up after himself, aren’t you?”

 

Liam chuckled loudly. “I sure hope not? I try not to be. I just never had any siblings to get into trouble with when I was younger like you did. Never got to learn how to fend for myself.”

 

“We’ll have to fix that,” Zayn muttered. He was letting himself lean into Liam’s broad shoulder, curl up into his side. It was nice; the fire warming his frozen feet, feeling safe from hurt in Liam’s arms. Zayn was tired of punishing himself for not being a better brother.

 

“Can I kiss you?” Liam asked a few minutes later, itching to feel Zayn’s soft lips against his (forever, and ever, and ever).

 

“Jesus, Liam, buy a guy dinner first…” Zayn laughed diffidently.

 

Liam shut Zayn up by kissing the top of his head. A kiss that said _let me know when you’re ready._

 

Zayn would never know what he did to deserve a betrothed as kind and as patient as Liam.

 

“What’s your middle name?” Zayn asked suddenly, realizing that he didn’t know.

 

“James. What’s yours?”

 

“Lee,” Zayn responded.

 

“Wait, seriously?” Liam was slightly incredulous.

 

Zayn nodded, a small smile on his face. When he glanced up at Liam it only grew.

 

“What was Leigh’s, then?”

 

“Zara.”

 

“That’s so cool.”

 

“Yeah, our mother was drunk when she gave birth to us.”

 

Liam couldn’t really tell if Zayn was kidding or not, but decided not to push it.

 

“Okay, so what’s your favorite color?” Liam questioned.

 

“Liam, that’s a shit question; I’m not answering it.”

 

“Fine. How did you and Louis become friends?”

 

Zayn rolled his eyes at the memory. “He was given the job of my personal advisor on the day of my sixteenth birthday because that’s the year Dad decided that, as crown prince, I needed to start dealing with kingdom-ish political-y things. Basically, I thought that Lou was really fucking annoying, and he thought I was a massive douche bag; we always fought. The day I was going to get him fired we got in a huge fight and I called him some dumb name and instead of taking offence to it he just laughed. We’ve been best friends ever since, I guess.”

 

“That’s a nice story,” Liam commented sarcastically.

 

“Yeah, yeah. What about you and Harry?”

 

Liam shrugged. “He’s my cousin. I declared him my most favorite person the day he was born. I was just happy to finally have another kid to play with.”

 

The pot over the fire in front of them began to bubble, steam visible over the top of it.

 

“Tea time!” Zayn exclaimed, standing up to fetch Liam a mug.

 

He filled said mug with boiling water, and then let Liam put the tealeaves in it himself.

 

“Careful,” Zayn smirked as he handed the cup to Liam, “It’s hot.”

 

Liam momentarily forgot where he was when Zayn pulled that face. He was so gorgeous Liam could hardly stand it.

 

As Liam perched himself atop the counter that ran along the center of the kitchen, Zayn dumped a bag of uncooked pasta into the water still boiling over the fire.

 

“Watcha makin’?” Liam hummed curiously.

 

“Buttered noodles,” Zayn replied, digging through a drawer in search of a bowl and spoon.

 

“Zee, that’s gross.”

 

“You’re gross.”

 

“You’re gonna let me have some right?” Liam asked softly.

 

“Hmmm…” Zayn pretended to be in deep thought. “I suppose.”

 

“You’re so beautiful, Zayn,” Liam suddenly blurted, because it was true, and he thought that Zayn should know.

 

Zayn blushed lightly, looking terribly caught off-guard. “I—I already said I’d give you some noodles, Li.”

 

“No, it’s not—Zayn, just. Come here,” Liam demanded.

 

Zayn went there and Liam hopped down to the floor in favor of lifting Zayn onto the counter.

 

“You’re beautiful, Zayn; incredibly so. You have the most enthralling eyes, and the nicest cheeks bones. You’re just, so nice to look at,” Liam delineated. He nuzzled up against Zayn’s flushed skin. “And you smell good, and your _eyes_ —have I mentioned your eyes—?”

 

Zayn cut Liam off with a kiss. It started out much softer than their first one, and stayed that way. Zayn threaded his hands through Liam’s hair, and Liam hitched Zayn’s legs around his waist, keeping a hold on his thighs. Their lips slid passed each other slickly, tongues pressing together messily in between.

 

Liam began sliding his hands up the back of Zayn’s shirt and—

 

“My pasta,” Zayn declaimed, pulling his lips away from Liam’s. The latter groaned, dropping his head onto Zayn’s shoulder. Zayn began his attempt to wiggle free from the large hands on his bare waist while Liam kissed his neck and shoulders slowly.

 

“Li, seriously; I’m so hungry. If my pasta is overcooked, I’ll kill you.”

 

“Can we have sex first?” Liam grumbled against Zayn’s flushed skin.

 

“I knew that was all you wanted me for.”

 

“Not true…”

 

Zayn took Liam’s face into his hands, enjoying the feeling of his stubble far more than he should. “Let. Me. Down.”

 

Liam grudgingly backed off and Zayn rushed to save his precious pasta from drowning.

 

After blanketing his noodles in butter and cheese and retrieving two forks from a drawer, Zayn sat crossed-legged on top of the counter motioning for Liam to do the same. They set the noodles and tea in between them and shared both.

 

Without turning the mug every which way, Zayn took sips using the handle while Liam wrapped his oversized hands around the cup itself.

 

“Your hands are really big,” Zayn commented, watching them as Liam sipped the tea.

 

“Uh,” Liam spoke, looking down at said hands like he had never seen them before. “Thanks?”

 

Zayn would have responded had he not been preoccupied thinking about all the things those hands could _do_ to him.

 

“So,” started Liam, bringing Zayn out of his outrageously specified fantasy, “what’s the next stop on our midnight adventure?”

 

“Mmmm,” Zayn hummed, sucking the cheesy buttered goodness off of the pasta in his mouth before swallowing. “The throne room,” he took a long sip of their green tea while looking at Liam over the brim: Liam’s muddy eyes, Liam’s pouty lips, Liam’s scraggy bedhead—all captivating.

 

The princes finished off the noodles and tea before setting off for the throne room. Upon arriving at the end of the corridor where the room was, they found it heavily guarded.

 

“We probably should’ve seen this coming,” Zayn whispered, taking Liam’s hand. “It is where our crowns are kept as well.”

 

Liam allowed Zayn to lead him to the nearest stairwell and continue down. “Where’re we going now?” He asked.

 

“The catacombs. There’s a secret entrance to the throne room that’s used as an escape for the royal family in emergencies,” explained Zayn. He noticed Liam’s uneasy visage and went on to say, “Don’t worry, I know these tunnels like the back of my hand.”

 

It turned out that Zayn did know the catacombs like the back of his hand. He led his fiancé through every twist and turn. Liam just enjoyed Zayn’s hand clasping his and the way he never let him get too far away. Soon, they were emerging from the passageways through a door that had once been a part of the wall of the throne room.

 

Four thrones stood ominously on a raised platform with stairs leading down to a wide expanse of floor where civilians stood for ceremonies. The hall was shadowy and a little bit dusty, as it had not been used in months. The only things clean and sparkling were the bejeweled thrones and the crowns that sat in their seats. Leigh’s tiara, which had been rightfully buried with her, was absent.

 

Zayn tugged Liam forward to his parent’s thrones, which sat ahead of his and Leigh’s.

 

“Might as well get used to ruling together, right?” Zayn suggested, picking up his father’s crown and lightly pushing his betrothed into the seat. He then placed the circlet atop Liam’s head. “You look hot in a crown.”

 

“In your _father’s_ crown,” Liam stressed, reaching to take it off.

 

Zayn scoffed, plunking down into Liam’s lap, effectively surprising him into dropping the ornament back onto his head. “Please, he wouldn’t care. I’m pretty sure that he loves you more than he does me.” The prince reached behind himself over to the throne sitting adjacent to the king’s, grabbing Queen Helen’s crown and placing it over his dark hair. “We’re going to be reigning over an empire soon. Together: King and King.”

 

Future-King Liam settled his arms around Future-King Zayn’s waist, yielding to the prospects of spending the rest of their lives together.

 

Zayn rested his head against Liam’s shoulder; let his bare feet rest against the cold, gold construction of King Stanley’s throne. “Promise to always fuck me in broom closets in between meetings with congress and developing war strategies with Sir Joshua?”

 

Liam kissed his betrothed’s cheek lovingly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

In return, Zayn pecked Liam’s lips. The simple kiss unfolded into a long, drawn-out one, and soon Liam was slipping his tongue into Zayn’s mouth and his hands under Zayn’s shirt. The latter shifted in Liam’s lap, attempting to move in order to straddle him, instead only succeeding in making the prince increasingly hard.

 

Liam detached their mouths, lifting Zayn’s hips to help him into a more comfortable position. He moaned lightly when he felt Zayn’s half-hard cock rest against his. Zayn began to kiss and suck at Liam’s neck while rocking and grinding his hips forward into Liam’s.

 

“Fuck, Zayn…” Liam muttered, his hands on Zayn’s ass, helping him move.

 

Then Zayn was mashing their warm mouths together, eager to taste Liam.

 

“Hey,” Liam whispered when Zayn’s lips parted from his for a moment. “Hey…” Liam held his cheeks in big, rough hands, thumbs brushing over Zayn’s defined cheekbones. “Are you alright?”

 

Zayn felt his heart jump into his throat. He nodded slowly, tracing Liam’s face with his eyes and holding Liam’s wrists with his hands. “Yeah, I’m alright. Are you?”

 

Liam grinned and nodded. He pulled Zayn close and kissed him carefully at first, then with an urgency that came partially from his dick, mostly from his raw requisite to be with Zayn in every way possible.

 

Zayn ducked his head to kiss at Liam’s exposed collarbones. Then he was hitching up Liam’s nightshirt to kiss and lick his abdomen, then he was on his knees in front of Liam, the queen’s crown clattering to the stone floor and—

 

Liam had never been this hard in his life, had never experienced anything as great as Zayn’s slight hands gripping his cock, which was now fully erect, pre-come beading at the tip. Running a hand through Zayn’s thick hair, grasping a handful at the back of his neck lightly, Liam—quite literally—almost came when Zayn caught his eyes, his own blown wide with want ( _need_ ) like he was asking fucking _permission_ to suck Liam’s cock.

 

“Zayn,” whispered Liam, voice cracking unexpectedly.

 

That was all Zayn needed to start going down on the prince, first licking around the head before sucking it into his mouth ardently.

 

Liam’s breathing sped up, encouraging Zayn to take more of his dick into his mouth. With Zayn’s tongue twirling around the head and hand pumping the base of his dick, Liam felt like he could come at any moment.

 

He reluctantly and gently pulled Zayn’s mouth off of his cock. The prince whined trying to pull Liam back to finish what he started, but Liam impeded by explaining, “Want you to come, too,” and guiding Zayn back into his previous position on top of Liam.

 

Liam helped his prince out of his pajama bottoms, exposing Zayn’s solid and leaking cock to the cool air of the throne room.

 

Before Zayn could touch himself Liam was doing it for him, wrapping a massive hand around both of their cocks using Zayn’s pre-come and his spit to move more efficiently. He jerked them both off quickly, the wet sounds of skin on skin echoing throughout the hall. Zayn kissed Liam’s mouth, and chin, and neck, and chest, and anywhere he could reach, trying to get closer to his betrothed.

 

“Shit, Liam, _faster_ ,” Zayn pleaded, needing to come like he needed air in his lungs.

 

Liam came first, his thighs and stomach tensing up as he did. He rested his forehead against Zayn’s shoulder, forcing himself to move his hand over his sensitive dick in order to get Zayn off (which he want to do more than anything at the moment).

 

Zayn’s breath left him as he came, mouthing Liam’s name silently. Everything felt hot and sticky, and he for some reason had goose bumps, and for some reason really wanted to get off with Liam again. Preferably with Liam’s dick up his ass, fucking him properly while—

 

“I love you,” Liam whispered suddenly, looking as though he had surprised himself as well as Zayn.

 

_“It’s better to be than to burn.”_

 

“I love you, too,” Zayn said honestly.

 

***

 

The pair had made it safely back to Zayn’s chamber, bearing armfuls of food and wide smiles. After sucking Liam off in the throne room Zayn had been insistent on returning to the kitchen to get food they could bring back to bed. The prince deposited his heap of bread, fruits, and candy on top of the bed and motioned for Liam to do the same.

 

“Now, aren’t you glad we got food?” Liam asked, crawling onto the mattress, laying down the horizontal way.

 

“I think I’m more glad that we got off than we got food,” Zayn said cheekily. He was walking carefully on the mattress, pulling the draperies of the four-poster bed shut so the monarchs could enjoy their food (and each other) in complete isolation.

 

Liam laughed and reached up to pull Zayn down on top of him the waist. “Will you hand me an apple?” Liam requested.

 

“Uh, I will if you let me go.”

 

Liam did as he was told; Zayn did as he was asked while shaking his head and calling Liam a heathen under his breath.

 

Biting into his apple, Liam watched as Zayn buttered a slice of bread.

 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” asked Zayn, taking a bite of his snack.

 

“Like what?”

 

“Like…I don’t know?”

 

“Like I love you more than anything in the entire world?” Liam supplied. “Because it’s true, of course.”

 

“Fuck off Liam. I’m not marrying you if you’re going to be all sappy like that.”

 

“You know you’re actually really attractive when you’re indignant.”

 

“ _Fuck off,_ ” Zayn insisted, kicking Liam away when he tried to get closer to his fiancé.

 

“Baaabbbyyyy,” Liam whined, sticking his bottom lip out. Zayn kissed it.

 

“You’re goddamn lucky I’m being forced to marry you, Prince Liam.”

 

Liam pulled himself a good few inches away from Zayn’s face. “You still think of it like that?”

 

The combination of shock, worry, and sadness Liam’s eyes held might have actually torn Zayn’s heart a little. “No! God no—I was just. I was being dumb, Liam, I can’t wait to marry you. I love you.”

 

Liam smiled contently (reminding Zayn an astonishing amount of a puppy) and rubbed his stubbly cheek alongside Zayn’s neck.

 

The princes sat in warm silence for a good while, eating their stolen food and cuddling up against one another.

 

“I,” Zayn started, stopping himself to think of what he was trying to say exactly. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

 

He rubbed his thumb over the back of Liam’s hand, looking at his betrothed’s pretty, sleepy eyes.

 

“I’ve only ever loved, like, two people before in my life—like _really_ loved—and now. You.”

 

Liam spoke softly, his face close to Zayn’s so he could feel his hot breath. “Leigh wanted you to be happy so much. It was nearly all she talked about. I have no doubt that it was her dying wish.”

 

Zayn squeezed Liam’s hand, feeling his eyes start to sting he looked away, not wanting to cry in front of Liam.

 

“The sun’s probably up by now,” said Zayn.

 

Liam ignored him, hooking a finger under his chin and making Zayn face him once again. He kissed the few tears away and then connected their lips. Soft, measured, and reassuring, the kiss said one thing above all else: _“It’s better to be than to burn.”_


End file.
